


A Little Romance

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories II [23]
Category: E.R., X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter and John discuss romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Romance

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately.
> 
> SPECIAL DEDICATION: To Melissa. Now shut up. (grin)
> 
> SPECIAL NOTES: Okay, so I STILL didn't get my act together yet to produce more John/Walter stories. Hopefully this little bit will help everyone be patient as I work to finish up the recent story line.

Walter chuckled to himself as he watched The Official explain his agency's budgetary woes to a truly apathetic Darien Fawkes. This show amused the hell out of him. He identified strongly with the fat man, and wondered what it would be like to have his own Eberts. Darien Fawkes was not unlike one Fox Mulder. Both had no respect for authority, played strictly by their own moral code, and generally made life a living hell for their superiors. Thank God Mulder couldn't go invisible. There'd be no end to the fucking grief that would cause.

There was a snort of disgust and Walter glanced over at John Carter who was stretched out on the floor. He had propped his head up on a couple of throw pillows and seemed to be engrossed in whatever he was reading. He had a sheaf of white pages in one hand, while the other hand idly scratched at his stomach.

John Carter's skin pale skin and smooth torso made Walter think, not for the first time, that he needed to introduce John to the joys of a good gym and a tanning booth. But then, there was something endearing about John Carter's softness. Physically he was Walter's exact opposite.

A gagging sound brought Walter out of his reverie. "What the hell are you reading?"

John slapped the papers to the floor next to him. "Let me ask you a question."

"Okay."

"Have you ever, in your entire life, sent flowers to another man?"

"I took flowers to Mulder once when he was in the hospital." Walter smiled. "Of course, it was because if I didn't have something to occupy my hands, I was going to put them around his throat and strangle the shit out of him."

John Carter snickered. "I vote for strangling him next time." He picked up the pages he'd been reading. "But, back to my question. Have you ever sent flowers to another man, in a romantic sense."

Walter snorted in disgust.

"My point, exactly," John Carter said. He sat up. "Maggie Doyle gave me this story. Have you ever heard of slash fiction?"

"I've heard of slasher movies."

"Not nearly the same. Maggie's got a friend who writes this stuff. There are women who write gay erotica using characters from television shows. She gave me this one that's based on JAG because she thought that the Harm/Admiral relationship had some resonance with our relationship."

Now Walter made a gagging sound. "The Admiral was a Navy Seal. No Marine in his right mind would want to be mentioned in the same breath as a Seal."

"You've seen this show?"

"Take it from me, John Carter, you're much more appealing than David James Elliot, and the guy playing the Admiral is a skinny wuss."

John Carter laughed. "Well, then you'll love this. This story has the Admiral sending flowers to Harm, and then Harm preparing a candlelight dinner. They drink wine, Harm gets tears in his eyes when the Admiral declares his love."

"Dear God."

"Oh, it gets worse. Then, they start kissing on the couch, and in a moment of extreme passion, the Admiral sweeps Harm up into his arms and carries him into the bedroom, where he tenderly undresses Harm. Then they make slow magical love."

"Real men don't make slow magical love."

John Carter waggled his eyebrows at Walter. "They don't, huh?"

Walter grinned.

"The only thing that would be cool to have in real life that I've found in this story is the wonderful magic penis syndrome."

"Dare I ask?"

"These guys can orgasm and be ready to go again within minutes. I've counted four orgasms each, and I'm not even to the shower scene, yet."

"Maybe they both od'd on Viagra."

John Carter flopped back down on his back. "You take enough Viagra to make you that hard, and you're going to find yourself in a cardiac unit, pronto." John Carter started reading again. His left hand snapping the band of his boxers again and again against his abdomen.

Walter turned his attention back to the television. Bobby Hobbes was kicking some serious ass. That made Walter grin. Hobbes wasn't the biggest guy around, but he had that Marine thing going. He kicked ass and took names. The long sleeved t-shirt Darien Fawkes had on really showed off the musculature of his chest. Damn that man had a fine body. And he was a basketball fan, just like a certain young doctor.

The sound of John Carter popping the elastic on his boxers penetrated Walter's thoughts. It was something John did when he wasn't paying attention. Walter had heard the sound many times when they were talking on the phone. It was as much a part of the man as his dark eyes and soft beard.

Walter shifted slightly, realizing that he was starting to get hard. His penis might not be magic enough to get hard over and over again, but he had great control. He could last long enough to drive John Carter crazy.

Walter flicked the television off with the remote. The show ran again at eleven. He'd see the ending then. He cleared his throat. John Carter glanced over at him. "You up for a good hard fuck?"

John Carter smiled. "I think I need one. Here or upstairs?"

"Upstairs. I hate rug burn."

"Gosh, Walter, should I light some candles? Put on some romantic music? I know, I think I'll scent the sheets with rose water."

Walter felt a growl starting in his chest. Damn smart ass. John Carter was getting to be a little too much like Mulder. It was time to bring him back to reality. "What you'd better do is get your ass naked and on the bed. Now."

John waggled his eyebrows more. "Oh, Walter, darling, I love it when you get all dominant."

Walter jumped and before John Carter could scramble to his feet, Walter had John slung over his shoulder and was carrying him fireman style up the stairs. He could feel John's erection.

John flailed at him with the pages of the story that he still carried. "Hey, hey, put me down!" His complaints were tempered by his laughter.

Walter dumped John onto the bed, stripped his boxers off him and leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of John Carter's body. "So, you want romance?" Walter nipped at the skin where John's neck met his shoulder. "You want flowers and candles?" Walter's hands pinched John's nipples, then stroked down his body. Walter grabbed John's erection and pumped it hard with his tight fist. "Is that what you want, John Carter?"

John's eyes were dark and his face and chest flushed with arousal. Walter kissed him, biting John Carter's lips, forcing his tongue into John's mouth as though trying to reach his tonsils. John's breathing was ragged.

"What do you want, John Carter?" Walter growled softly against his ear.

"Oh, Jesus," John gasped. "He's not available."

John reached up and grabbed Walter's head, pulling his face down so that he could kiss him. The kiss was aggressive, hungry. Walter responded in kind. Finally John broke away, gulping air.

"Oh, fuck, Walter, now. Something, anything, now."

Walter smiled, feeling himself almost leer at John. He pulled John up onto the bed. Then he climbed up over John, reversing their positions so that his face was over John's groin. Without a sound he took John's hard penis in his hand and lowered his mouth over the head of it.

John screamed and Walter began to lick and suck, dragging his teeth over the ridge of John's circumcision scar. Walter could feel John's pulse in his tight fist.

John attacked Walter's penis, engulfing it in a wet heat that made Walter groan, taking every ounce of control he had not to push, not to force himself deeper, make John take him into his throat.

Walter lost himself in the feel of John Carter's mouth, and the taste of John Carter's penis on his tongue. He felt the spasm of John Carter's orgasm in his hand, and his mouth was flooded with semen. Only seconds later his own orgasm shuddered through his body.

Some time later Walter realized he was lying with his face tucked into the crease where John Carter's thigh and torso met. He felt warm and lazy. He rolled over onto his back and heard the buzzing sound of the start of John's snoring.

Walter closed his eyes, his left hand stroking the smooth, pale flesh of John Carter's body. Now this was romance, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
